


Lestrade's "Get-well-soon" Gift

by RoguishRobin



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Mycroft rescues Greg, Poor Lestrade, Pre-Relationship, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Being a Good Friend, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:19:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7565179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoguishRobin/pseuds/RoguishRobin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock decides to take John's advice and visit poor Graham in hospital - but he does it in true Sherlock style. Mycroft has to come to the rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lestrade's "Get-well-soon" Gift

“Sherlock, you have to visit Lestrade today,” John reminded his flatmate while they were eating breakfast. Sherlock glanced up from his science journal and his face creased in bemusement when he spotted the toast on his plate which hadn’t been there before. 

“Why on earth do I need to visit Graham?” he asks, in genuine confusion. 

John counted to ten in his head before calmly replying.

“Because it’s your fault he’s in hospital in the first place Sherlock, that why.”

“How is it my fault that he slipped and broke his arm?” Sherlock asked, in an affronted tone.

“Because you sent him on that wild goose chase across London looking for one specific box of cigars,” John snapped.

“I was in the middle of a vital experiment, one which was key to solving the case. And I needed them to ascertain the culprit, thereby doing Grant a favour,” Sherlock said haughtily.

“Just go and visit him!” 

With those parting words John got up and grabbed his coat from the back of his armchair. 

“Where are you going?” Sherlock asked peeved.

“Work!” was the curt reply.

Sherlock hated the fact that he still felt a pang in his chest every time John left the apartment. It always felt as though he were catapulted back to that dark time. A time when John didn’t call Baker Street his home and called Mary his wife. Fortunately, that was all over and John was back where he belonged - with Sherlock. Not that anything had happened, yet. Sherlock was slowly working up to admitting his feelings to John, therefore, he mused it might be best to appease John by visiting Gavin.

Since he didn’t have a case, he decided that he would do this “visiting business” properly and turned to his friend for social situations: Google.

He read through several articles and scoffed at how simple the whole procedure truly was. Visit the person, enquire about their health, wish them a speedy recovery and finally bring them a gift that would cheer them up. 

Next, he typed ‘gifts for single, lonely 40+ men’ since he had no idea what to get George. In the end, he turned off John’s laptop and sat back in his chair, ready to organise the perfect gift. It didn’t take him long and thanks to his numerous contacts. 

“Sherlock, what are you doing here?” Lestrade’s eyes widened comically when he spotted the detective lingering at his door, “come in.”

“I believe it is customary to visit your friends when they are in hospital,” replied Sherlock stiffly.

Lestrade snorted, “John made you come, didn’t he?”

Sherlock didn’t deign to answer and instead looked at the clip-board at the end of Lestrade’s bed, he might as well get this part of the visit over with. He was able to assure himself that Gavin simply had a straight-forward fracture that should heal with no problems.

Greg watched Sherlock studying his chart with amusement, “Sherlock, it’s customary to ask the patient how he’s doing and not to consult their medical chart.”

“Yes, but this chart is much more accurate, without all the wishy-washy emotions,” Sherlock replied putting it back into its place and clasping his hands behind his back.

“Speaking of customary, I hope that you make a speedy recovery and I’m sure that John would be happy to help you with anything once you get back to your flat since your wife has left, again.”

Lestrade winced at his blunt wording but knew it wasn’t meant maliciously.

“I appreciate that, but maybe you should ask John first?”

“No, no don’t be silly Gavin, that’s what friends do for each other after all,” Sherlock stated solemnly.

Greg, fought back a hysterical giggle. “You’re right, thanks Sherlock.”

Sherlock looked inordinately pleased.

“And while we’re on the subject of ‘your wife leaving you for that PE teacher’, again might I add, I have brought you an appropriate gift to cheer you up.”

He gestured to the door which opened and revealed a beautiful black-haired woman wearing a beige trench coat.”

“Enjoy,” Sherlock called and slammed the door shut on his way out.

Lestrade watched him leave in stunned silence but then he heard a click and almost jumped out of bed in his sudden rage. 

“Sherlock, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He shouted but there was no response.

“Just sit back and relax,” the woman purred seductively in a heavy eastern accent.

He sunk back into the sheets and prayed that this was some elaborate prank.

The woman, ignoring his trepidation, took out portable speakers and put on instrumental music before whipping off her coat. 

Greg gulped.

Mycroft watched his brother stride out of the hospital, a bounce in his step, with suspicion. What on earth was he doing at the hospital, surely he wasn’t visiting Gregory. Mycroft blushed at the thought of Sherlock seeing him here, a bunch of flowers in his hand, replacing his umbrella. 

Fortunately Sherlock didn’t but Mycroft’s steps quickened in his hurry to see Greg. 

They had been taking things very slowly, both out of necessity in relation to their schedules but also because they didn’t want to spoil what they had. 

He frowned when he spotted the empty nurse’s station and wanted to throttle Sherlock when he heard Greg’s familiar voice shouting threats and expletives as well as someone, presumably Greg, banging on a door. He rushed to Greg’s room and found the door locked.

“Greg, are you alright? What’s happening?”

“Mycroft, is that you? Will you let me out? Your daft brother has locked me in here with a get-well-soon gift.”

There was no key and Mycroft didn’t want to waste time searching for it so he pulled out a paper-clip from his pocket and hastily started to pick the lock. Once the door swung open Mycroft was mentally prepared for a lot of things but not what faced him. A harassed looking Greg, his hair standing up wild, a light sheen of sweat from the exertion of moving around too much when he should be resting and a beautiful woman wearing next to nothing sitting sullenly on his bed.

He tried to quell the laughter threatening to bubble up his chest but failed when Greg threw him a betrayed look.

“Oh Sherlock,” sighed Mycroft once his laughter was under control. He calmly tells the lady that there has been a mix up and she leaves.

“You poor thing,” Mycroft soothes Greg as he helps him back into bed and arranges the flowers on the window sill next to the others he had already sent. 

“Why don’t you come here and help me to get over it?” Greg asked him smiling and Mycroft couldn’t resist, he never could with Greg.

Greg shrugged, and watched appreciatively as Mycroft took off his jacket and got on the bed next to him.

“As his older brother, I enlist your help in plotting revenge,” he said darkly as Mycroft put an arm around him.

“He meant well, this time,” Mycroft muttered quietly into Greg’s hair.

“Hmmm,” grumbled Greg but didn’t say anything else, too happy to spend some quality time with his strange and wonderful man.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. I found this while I was sorting out all my uni notes - don't really remember writing it, lbr, I probably wrote it while I was supposed to be writing an essay. :) Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


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